


Wild Like The Bear

by HouseofTheBear



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Another one sentence mention of Jon Snow, Erotica, F/M, I'm sure I'll miss a tag or two for this story, Jorah x Daenerys, Passionate Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseofTheBear/pseuds/HouseofTheBear
Summary: Time apart has fueled Jorah's and Daenerys' passion for one another. Now she will see why Jorah really is 'her bear'.  An alternate scene set during 7x07, "The Dragon and the Wolf".





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story continues the established relationship of Jorah and Daenerys from my previous work ("As I Command"). It's a bit *wilder* than my last story (hence the title). I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I want to thank my beta reader GB again for an amazing job :Big Hug:
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters and any other mentions of places/things/people from the world of GOT belong to their respective owner/s (GRRM and/or HBO) and I stand to gain nothing from this. Strictly entertainment. Don't sue me!

Strategy meetings had always been the most tedious part of being Queen.   It was made even more difficult by the fact that Jorah kept staring at her across the table.  She could feel his eyes on her, as tangible as touch.  When she did meet his gaze, there was longing there and it comforted her to know she was not alone in her feelings.  Everything about him was constrained tension as he stood there, from the set of his jaw and his upright posture to his clenched hands at his sides.  She felt her own tension as well, her mind struggling to concentrate on the matter at hand.  She would regain her composure for a brief moment only to feel it slip every time she met his intense eyes.  Images flashed in her mind’s eye of certain caresses from their previous evening together and she felt a rush of wetness between her legs.  This meeting could not end soon enough, she thought.

                It took every ounce of resolve in Jorah to not cross the room and take Daenerys in his arms, everyone else be damned.  He needed her desperately.  There had only been a few brief stolen kisses that did little to quench his desire, in fact, it only made it burn hotter.  He had wanted to comfort her in her grief, to let her cry in his arms at the loss of Viserion, but she had refused to see anyone.  He understood her need for solitude as she mourned.  Then there was the tense meeting at the Dragon Pit with the Lannister’s.  So much had happened that there had hardly been time for much else.  As he could sense that the meeting was drawing to a close, he felt that perhaps now he could have a moment alone with her, even if it meant that they could not yet give in to their desire.

                “It is settled then.  I will ride Drogon north to meet you at White Harbor,” Daenerys said, her tone final on the matter.  A look of disappointment crossed Jon Snow’s face, a look she didn’t quite understand.  She shrugged it off as nothing for she had a more urgent issue to attend to.  “You are all dismissed.”  Jorah had begun to exit the Chamber of the Painted Table with the others before he heard her say,”Ser Jorah, a moment please.”  He turned to her then, the long table the only thing left between them.  He could see the rise and fall of chest, faster than usual, and her eyes were filled with passion.  He walked slowly toward her, his hand trailing along the table top as he approached her.  Her eyes darted to his hand.  As she watched it, she remembered how reverent his touch had been and how much pleasure she had taken from his callused fingers.  She wanted his hands on her now, she could wait no longer.  He stopped in front of her, and her eyes traveled deliberately up his body to his eyes, so full of hunger for her.  He was hastily unfastening his cloak before he dropped it to the floor as her hands flew to the fasteners of his breastplate.  He gripped it by the side and pulled it over his head, not bothering to unfasten the ties at the shoulders. He dropped it with a metallic clang to the stone floor.  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, knowing he always allowed her to make the first move.  His hands gripped her waist and lifted her easily against him, as his lips met her own again, frantic and full of need.  Her legs wound around his hips as she undulated her body against the thick hardness she felt in his breeches; he growled low in his throat in response to her urgency.  His hands slid from her waist to her bottom where he gripped and kneaded at the roundness there, pulling her flush against his hardness, holding her to it.  Her hips rolled against him as her head fell back, exposing the long column of her throat to his lips and the rasp of his beard on the tender skin.  Her hand threaded through his hair and held his head to her neck.  Their lips met again, tongues clashed and danced with one another, unable to get enough.  He stepped to the table and set her on the edge, breaking off the kiss to place a hand softly against her chest and told her in a deep, rough voice, “Lay back.”

                She mewled at the loss of contact as she lay back on the table, gazing up as he stood over her.  She loved how he looked standing there between her legs, the power he kept contained in his tall strong frame.  He stepped back to remove her boots and then reached under her gown to remove her trousers, his gaze never leaving hers.  He ran his hands from her knees to her hips, pushing her gown up to bunch at her waist.  Her silvery curls were soaked with her slick dew and he dropped to one knee before her.  She propped herself onto her elbows, frustration evident in her voice, “Jorah, what-“

                But she finished her sentence with a low long groan instead of the rest of her thought as he licked a hard stripe with his tongue through her wetness to her pearl.  “I needed your taste on my tongue, love.”, his voice full of want.

                She whimpered, “Take me, Jorah.  I need you inside me.  Now.”, His hand went to his breeches as he hastily undid the ties and reached inside to free himself from them.  He thrust into her hard, her body sliding slightly on the table.

                “Gods, yes!”, she cried out, her nails biting into the table as he took her.  He grasped her hips in his hands as he thrust into her, her body shuddering with each hard plunge inside.  This was exactly what she had been craving: to be taken, completely at Jorah’s mercy.  He hefted her legs higher up on his sides and angled his thrusts to create a new pleasure for her, and she cried out her approval.  She felt her orgasm rising fast and grasped his hand to place it between her legs.  He knew without instruction what she desired to make the pleasure complete, and he gave it to her, willingly.  He cursed roughly as he felt her spasm at the first touch of his thumb, so slick from her arousal.  His finger flicked exactly as fast and at what pressure he knew she needed in time with his thrusts.  He realized he would not last, watching and feeling her body writhe beneath him, her high cries of his name now nearly continuous from her lips.  His thrusts lost all finesse, as he chased their mutual release.  The sound of their flesh meeting echoed off the walls of the chamber, a sound so profane yet simultaneously holy to his ears.  One last hard deep thrust and a flick of his thumb, and she was lost.  Her back arched from the table as she sobbed out his name, quivering around his hardness.  He followed on the next thrust, holding himself deep in her throbbing wet heat as he spilled his release inside her, her name mixed with profanity leaving his lips in a rough cry.

                His knees felt weak as he fell forward toward the table, his hands and arms shaking as he tried to support himself.  She swirled her hips and it drew a gasp from both of their lips, drawing one last throb of pleasure before it had completely faded from where they were joined.  Her legs fell limply from his sides as she sighed in contentment.  She felt weightless like she was floating in a warm sea and she struggled a bit as she rose on wobbly arms to kiss him.  He wound one arm around her, supporting her between her shoulder blades as best he could.  Their kiss was a sweet gentle juxtaposition to the rough passionate coupling they had just shared.

                “You are wild like the bear”, she whispered softly against his ear before drawing the lobe gently between her teeth.  He felt a rush of renewed desire course through him.

                “Oh, my love, you have not yet seen the bear.”, he whispered roughly against her lips before taking them again in a hard kiss.

                She gripped his tunic then and said ardently, “Then take me to our bed.”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The disclaimer applies here too, in case you were wondering. Enjoy!

Jorah was thankful they had made it to their chambers without being seen.  He would have been hard pressed to explain why his Queen carried her trousers and boots in her hand or why he carried his armor in his.  She had nearly run there, his hand grasped in hers as he hurried to keep up with her.  She opened the wooden door and tossed what she had been carrying to the floor before turning to face him.  He closed the door and turned to meet her eyes.  He could see the hunger there, the desperation for him. 

                Jorah had once told her that there was a beast in every man and something about a sword, but she had trouble remembering the rest.  It was the part about the beast that struck her now; she had seen that look in his eyes before.  In Daznak’s Pit, when he had emerged from the fight victorious.  He was eyeing at her that way now and he looked every bit a beast: his teeth clenched, his nostrils flared with each breath and his eyes sparked.  He pulled her to him then, meeting her lips with a hard kiss.  He nibbled at her bottom lip as his hands set to undressing her, untying the simple closure at her waist before pushing the gown off her shoulders.  As he did this, she undid his leather tunic and then the ties of his breeches.  She could see his thick hardness pressing against the fabric and she reached out to cup him.  He growled against her neck as he licked her there, thrusting his hips against her hand.  He stepped back from her only briefly to pull the tunic over his head, tossing it to the floor.  He toed off his boots and pulled his breeches off.  He was on her again before she had a chance to appreciate his strong, naked body.  He grabbed her bottom and hefted her into his arms, bringing her breast to his mouth.  He licked and sucked at her hard nipple before taking it between his teeth, her hands clutched at his flexed biceps as he held her.  He could feel her slick center as she ground against him and he wanted her wet heat around him.  He walked to the bed and set her down beside it.

                “Kneel on the bed, love.  I need to take you,” his voice so rough with desire it sounded more like a growl.

                Her sex throbbed at his words as she followed his command.  He stepped behind her and ran his hand up the length of her back to her shoulders, where he pressed her down onto her hands.  He knelt behind her then, licking at the hollows at the base of her spine.  She arched back against him, stealing a glimpse of him over her shoulder, her eyes half open with desire.  He met her gaze as he plunged inside her, filling her deeply on one thrust.

“Gods, Jorah!” she cried as her head fell back on her shoulders, his hands gripping her hips.

He thrust into her hard, over and over again, his hand reaching up to draw her nipple between his fingers.  She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts.  He panted and groaned behind her, glancing down at where he disappeared inside her, his shaft glistening with her arousal.  He always knew he would never last if he ever took her like this, and wanting her to reach her peak before he did, he reached down between her legs and found her pearl soaked with her wetness.  If her cries of pleasure were any indication, the way he rapidly circled the bundle of nerves was exactly what she needed.

“Please…Oh…Gods…Yes…I’m…Oh…Jorah…” she whimpered and moaned, each word that spilled from her lips punctuated with a hard deep thrust.

He felt her begin to spasm around his thrusting manhood, throbbing in time with each touch of his fingers between her legs.  She threw back her head and screamed his name, gasping and shuddering as her took her through her peak.  His head dropped to her shoulder, his hot breath panting against her skin, leaving it damp.  A few more thrusts were all it took and he moaned her name, gripping her hip in his hand hard enough to bruise.  His teeth sunk into the tender flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder as he growled and spilled deep within her.  She reached up to grip the back of his head, her fingers threading through the damp hair there.  They both took deep lungful’s of air as they came down from the peaks.  He slipped from her to lie at her side and she turned to look at him, a satisfied smile on her face.  She lay down beside him, her hand stroking through his hair and down to his cheek.

“Mmm, My bear, indeed.” she sighed.

He chuckled at her words, “You bring it out in me, sweet one.”  He exhaled softly as he looked over her.  Her braids were no longer perfect, hair beginning to break free from them.  And then he saw it, the pale red outline of his bite, and he swallowed hard.

“Gods, love, what have I done?”  His brow furrowed with concern as he reached out to touch the bite softly.  He saw, too, the imprints his fingers had left on the pale skin of her hip.  “I have hurt you.   Daenerys, I’m so sor-“

She placed her fingers on his lips, “Shh, Jorah.  Do not apologize for your desire.  I am not sorry.”  She leaned over and replaced her touch with her lips, before she pulled back to meet his eyes.  “I love all the sides of you; your gentle, tender side as well as the wild, passionate one.”  She arched an eyebrow and with a playful smile on her lips, said “My bear has made me his mate and I carry his mark proudly.  I am yours.”

He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and whispered to her, “As I am yours.  Always.”  He sealed his declaration with a leisurely tender kiss.  She cuddled up to his side as he reached for the blanket and pulled it over them.  Sleep beckoned to them, The Bear and His Mate, and they answered.

**Author's Note:**

> I have other works on the way, including a Jorah/Daenerys AU.


End file.
